An open letter to Trent Reznor

Posted by E

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Trent,

We need to talk.

Let me get this out of the way first:  You're an artist.  I appreciate that.  I understand that.  I grok that.

It's certainly not my place to tell an artist how to produce their art or how best to go about their business.  Certainly, as the consumer I must trust you to put forth your best effort in all endeavors.

But at the same time, I would be remiss if I did not air specific concerns relating to the upcoming Tension 2013 tour.

Regardless, this isn't about you.

I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, though.  Let me provide you a brief history of my connection to NIN and the reason why this missive should be greeted with a degree of gravitas.

My history with NIN is the same old chestnut you've doubtless heard millions of times.  I've been a fan since time immemorial and have been rocking out since the first time I heard "Head Like a Hole".  I've purchased all the Halos, been to several concerts, evangelized for your art, and even emblazoned my arm with a NIN tattoo.

But that's all irrelevant, this isn't about me.

No.  I began to spread the infection that is my love for NIN to my then girlfriend back in 2005.  And she lucked out.  She managed to become a fan during the fruitful years where Year Zero, Ghosts I-IV, and The Slip all dropped in short order.

Her fandom was such that she snuck out and bought her and I tickets to the Lights in the Sky tour.  A show, I might add, that blew our minds in every conceivable way and is now held up as the standard against which all other shows are measured.

However, this isn't about her.

Well, damn, after all of this, what IS this message about?

Time to get to the meat of it, the crux of our shared burden.

The aforementioned girlfriend (and currently devoted wife) cheated the system a bit.  She only bought two tickets for us to go see your show.  But unbeknownst to us, we snuck in a third.

To be fair, we were unaware of the third until a short time after the concert, but she was there nonetheless, ensconced and hidden within my now wife's womb.

You know what's interesting about our hidden attendee?  Well, by all accounts, her little ear buds had developed right about the time we went to that show, meaning that the very first sounds she heard (or at least felt) were very likely none other than yourself.

Craziness, no doubt.

What makes it more interesting is that our little Zoë has had a natural affinity for your music since the day of her birth.

When Zoë couldn't sleep due to colic, what calmed her down?  NIN lullabies from the Rockabye Baby collection.

When we'd play music in the car, what would make baby Zoë thrash about in excitement?  Nine Inch Nails.

What was one of the very first songs she "memorized" (bearing in mind that she was only 2 1/2)?  Head Like a Hole, known in our house as "Head Control".

If we play Rock Band, she wants Head Control.

If we drive in the car, she wants NIN.

You are in the top echelon of what she considers the highpoint of music.  You have reached the upper pantheon with her that is shared only with Queen and the song "Fish Heads".

Lofty, to be sure.

So when the Tension 2013 tour was announced, dances of jubilation and glee were pranced about our home.  Zoë was told she gets to go.  She can't wait.

Okay, so big deal.  We're taking our 4 year old to see Trent Reznor perform live.  Cool, to be sure, but why the long winded message?

THIS is where things matter.

Zoë has only been to one other concert.  We took her last year to see "Weird Al" Yankovic on his Alpocalypse tour.  And to his credit, it was a great show.  I've seen him several times over the years and he is still at the top of his game.

And man, did Zoë have a great time.

But seriously, Trent.  It was Weird Al.

You produced Lights in the Sky.

Weird Al prances about in a fat suit and sings about eating too many doughnuts.

Surely you have something better planned?

Understand, I'm coming to you not as adoring fan, not as a demanding miscreant, but as a father.

You've got two little ones yourself.  Surely you can understand that desire as a father to ensure that they have the best of everything.

Could you look yourself in the mirror in the morning knowing that you've crushed the dreams of a 4 year old girl because you couldn't find a way to top a man dressed in robes singing a Star Wars parody of Lola?

Al was so successful to little Zoë that she wanted me to invite him out to play her birthday.  Will you warrant that response?  Will I be able to lift my head high and say "Yeah, there's no way I can get Trent Reznor to play at your birthday", or will I have to console a sobbing child all the way home from the arena, trying to explain that sometimes in life our hopes and dreams are crushed by things out of our control?

Trent, I know that's a lot of pressure to place on a man, but speaking father to father, surely you understand?

We'll find out soon enough.

Will my daughter live a life of contentment and happiness or will she spiral into a black void of despair?

We'll see you in Atlanta on October 24.  I'll bring Kleenex for her, either to wipe away the tears of joy or to absorb the tears of disappointment.

Best regards,
Ian, Jen, and Zoë